


A Date With Trouble

by Sivictis



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Arena Days, Breakdown/Knock Out/Starscream (Transformers) - Freeform, Do not post to another site, Functionalist Universe, M/M, Megatronus - Freeform, Nightmares, megastarweek2021
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-18 12:21:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29118171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sivictis/pseuds/Sivictis
Summary: Megatron knew that Starscream was trouble when he first met him. The same could be said vice-versa, but they both made it work.Or: The one where there was only one bed.
Relationships: Megatron/Starscream (Transformers)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 27
Collections: MegaStar Week 2021 Collection





	A Date With Trouble

**Author's Note:**

> Written for MegaStar week! Day 6 and Day 7 - Date and Celebration.
> 
> Dedicated to: Law <3

“What in Primus’ name did you do?” Starscream’s said, optics wide at the sight before him. 

Despite it being recharge hours, the light in Megatron’s room was a stark contrast to the mess that used to be the mech’s bed. 

“Who attacked you in the middle of the night?”

Megatron vented slowly as his shoulder cannon powered down from the blast. It still felt warm and he could still hear the phantom hum of it. 

He looked to his left and saw that the chrono device by his bedside continued to blink steadily. It was the night before a particular Decepticon event. It seemed rather insignificant, but Megatron always allowed a day for remembering those lost while also celebrating the accomplishments of the cause. The event sometimes came with bad memories, however. 

“No one attacked me,” the Decepticon leader said. His voice gave nothing away, but the sounds of uncaring words, flashing lights, and the feeling of being worked on by medics were still present in his mind. 

Starscream scoffed. He extended a servo to Megatron and helped him up from the burnt mess of a bed.

“Come on,” the seeker said, still holding Megatron’s servo and tugging him out of the room.

“Where are you taking me?”

“What?” Starscream snapped. “Isn’t it obvious? My room.”

Normally, Megatron would roll his optics, shake his second-in-command off, and find a solution to his predicament by contacting Soundwave. However, it was the middle of the night and Megatron of all mechs knew how hard the communications officer worked. Briefly, Megatron wondered if Soundwave was doing any surveillance work now.

Megatron shrugged as he walked with the seeker down the hall. A few concerned Decepticons had been awoken by the cannon firing, and they asked if everything was alright. Starscream waved them off. 

They arrived in front of the seeker’s chambers. With a quick scan, the door to Starscream’s room opened. The seeker then clapped twice to turn on the lights.

The room was pristine, but well-lived in. There was a writing desk with a few datapads placed neatly on top of each other. Beside them was an Earth plant that looked to be in dire need of water and sunlight. A gift from Thundercracker, Megatron assumed. 

A shelf adjacent to the table had a collection of powered-down datapads, small trinkets from the seeker’s pre-war days, and - Megatron looked at the shelf again, making sure that he saw it correctly. Shelved away in a corner was one of his original books of poetry. They were all written and published anonymously, of course, but when word got out that it was the Decepticon leader who wrote them, many of his books were burned and buried. 

Starscream? One of sentiment? What exactly was the seeker planning? 

“If you’re done being dazed out,” Starscream interrupted his train of thought. “Then do help me with this bedroll.” 

The seeker pushed the bedroll into Megatron’s arms. Together, they unravelled it and placed it on the floor. 

Megatron noted the thinness of it. It would not be comfortable, and he’d probably have a few bolts and panels too tight in the morning, but it would have to do. It wasn’t so different from his old days as a gladiator, he supposed. 

Life as a gladiator had not been without consequences. Megatron had fought in the arena, and he had deployed various tactics in order to gain the upper hand. Sometimes, when the concept of honor became forsaken the battlefield, the only way to win had been to get back up and keep fighting. 

Megatron remembered matches where a great opponent would continue attacking him even after the round ended. The crowd around him had both jeered at his opponent and cheered for his own demise. That had been fine with him. Those mechs had not known any better and wanted a form of entertainment. Megatron had no respect for them. However, it had been the aftermath of those arena battles that the ex-gladiator dreaded.

Medics for the arena were supposed to heal their fighters. However, the technique they used had mattered little. As long as a gladiator could fight another day, it had been okay. The medics back then had no love for Megatron, no sympathy. They simply saw it as a job to be done and paid for. 

The medics who had resided in the inner city never set foot in the area he frequented. Except perhaps the mech named Ratchet. The medic had been a friend of Orion Pax, and by that extension, once aquateinces with him. 

Times changed, however. After a few proddings too many and the more corrupt of medics willing to swipe another mech’s parts for credits or for experimentation, Megatron no longer trusted them fully. In his arena days, the boldest of medics jabbed at him for parts without much preamble. Helpless after a difficult battle, Megatron used to wish he had a weapon at ready to cease their sparks. 

The prone position in a bed, coupled with the date, sometimes made painful memories resurface, and Megatron hated that the worst of his nightmares were a reflection of that. At least, he reconkened, there weren’t any flashing red indicators of emergencies at the present.

Now, with the lights turned off and laying uncomfortably on the bedroll that did nothing to soften the floor, the Decepticon leader moved around to find a better position. 

Megatron looked at his second-in-command. Cured up in bed, Starscream’s back was to him.

“Remember when we used to do this right before the war?” Megatron said. He kept his voice low. “You insisted that I be your bodyguard. You thought your entire cohort was after you.” 

The seeker shifted in bed. 

“They _were_ after me with what I was advocating for,” the seeker replied quietly. “You said you didn’t need the sleep anyway. And every night for a whole month, you were by my side despite _Soundwave's_ insistence that I was trouble.”

“You’re still trouble.”

“I know.”

“What happened to us, Starscream?”

A long silence followed, and Megatron thought that his second-in-command fell into recharge. But then-

“I don’t know,” the seeker finally said into the darkness. 

Battle changed mechs not only in appearance, but their hearts and belief systems as well. It had been millennia since the start of the conflict between Decepticons and Autobots, and whenever the anniversary date of the conflict arrived, Megatron was a bit melancholic of the mechs lost and what other mechs went through. 

The date also brought back those unpleasant memories of flashing lights being ignored in favor of spare parts. Megatron not only fought against the caste system where mechs were created for specific functions only, but he also fought for a better society where mechs like him would no longer be harvested for parts because “no one will miss them.”

Starscream, of all mechs, was familiar with the Decepticon leader’s lack of sleep well before the conflict. And, if Megatron put two and two together, he reckoned that the seeker knew the author of that old, tattered poetry book on his shelf. 

A few moments later, Megatron heard some shuffling around. His second-in-command then cursed. 

“Come here,” Starscream said. 

“What?”

“Don’t make me repeat myself, you fool.”

Starscream turned to face Megatron briefly before turning back around. He moved himself closer to the wall of the bed, making some room. 

The Decepticon leader made his way into the bed. Beside him, Starscream’s presence was warm. It helped clear his mind of the memories that haunted him. 

“Thank you,” Megatron said, his optics dimming down. 

This time, when Megatron fell into recharge, he did not dream. 

* * *

“No, no. The banner should be placed there! Shift it left a bit more,” Starscream said, tapping his heel. He was losing his patience. 

Every year, the Decepticons gathered together in both memory and celebration of their cause. It not only helped with team-building, but helped with interpersonal skills as well. And _by Primus_ did the mechs before him need to get out more. 

Breakdown and Knock Out were already looking at each other as if no other mechs existed in the room. The cause for celebration, Starscream understood, but not all personal celebrations needed to be so public.

In another part of the gathering area, more Decepticons were chatting away while going about their duties. The leisurely pace was tolerable. Normally, Starscream would not let it slide, but he was well aware that Megatron would allow for a day of relaxation, too. 

Megatron. 

Last night, Starscream heard a loud blast from the mech’s cannon and promptly dashed into his room. He was one of the two mechs with the security clearance to do so. Soundwave was the other one. When he saw his leader’s optics, they appeared dazed. Megatron did always do a good job at hiding his thoughts, but after all the years of being beside the mech - and even when he still had the name Megatronus - Starscream knew that something was not right. 

It had not only been his optics that gave him away. The expression that the mech had on reminded Starscream of all those years ago, back when he was in Vos and back when he insisted on having a specific bodyguard to keep him protected. 

When Megatron spoke about those months last night, Starscream swore. He remembered it well. He also remembered how sleep never came easy for Megatron, and, at times, nightmares plagued him. 

To any other mech, it would seem ridiculous to see the Decepticon leader like that. But Megatron was not only their leader. He was also just a mech trying to live another day. Having the vision to take down a corrupt system was just an added bonus. 

Starscream knew that not everyone would understand, and had long pledged to be the only one to see Megatron in such a state. What can he say? Sometimes, even the best of mechs needed protecting, too. Not that he’d ever let the fool know. 

The seeker felt someone’s hand on his shoulder before he was pulled into a tight hug. 

“Hey congrats, Screamers,” Thundercracker grinned as he let him go. Beside him, Skywarp smiled, too. 

“Thought it’d take forever,” Skywarp said. 

“What are you two talking about?” Starscream’s face heated up. What was going on? Was it something he wasn’t privy to? 

“Aw, don’t be shy about it. A bunch of us saw you walking together last night. And the entire base basically already knew,” Thundercracker elaborated. It did not prove useful, however. 

“Though, making him accidentally fire his canon and breaking the bed? _That_ was a surprise,” Skywarp added.

Starscream looked between the two members of his trine. 

The realization then dawned upon him.

“Listen here - him staying in my bed is only a one-time thing!”

Thundercracker faked a gasp and put his servos on his cheeks. Absolutely ridiculous. “And there was only one bed!”

Before Starscream could explain, the tapping of a microphone called for everyone’s attention. 

The Decepticon leader stood at the elevated area of the grand room. Soundwave was by his side to make sure everything was in place and Megatron could be heard clearly. 

As the second-in-command, Starscream should also be there, but when was anything ever typical between him and Megatron? 

Without much preamble, the Decepticon leader gave a speech about remembering those lost and those who fought for the cause. He then talked about taking some time to reflect yet also celebrate being together and paving the pave for a better future. 

Megatron’s speech was reminiscent of his early poems, and although he never said it out loud, Starscream appreciated how the mech carried his voice. It was steady, and each word had meaning. 

The Decepticon leader used his EM field to emphasize the message like he used to do with his rare spoken poetry events, and Starscream was back loitering outside of the gladiator arena again. 

He remembered how he demanded to see Megatronus after the mech’s battles. Back then, Starscream had wanted someone to guard him should any of his fellow associates go against him. He had also been a little curious about the mech himself. Thundercracker and Skywarp would say he had been a little _more_ than curious, but technicalities, technicalities. 

When Starscream had finally been able to get a hold of the champion, he was surprised by the talents that went beyond fighting in an arena. Orion Pax, who had been making a name for himself among his circles, had been going on and on about a mysterious poet back then, and Starscream inadvertently figured out who that poet was upon hearing Megatronus talk. 

The seeker had loved how the mech recited poetry to him back then. And upon the stage, even though Megatron no longer uttered poetry, Starscream realized that he was also a mech who he loved now. 

Megatron finished his speech and stepped off the stage. All of the Decepticons at the gathering cheered. 

And, to Starscream’s slight horror, some of them patted him on the back and gave him words of congratulations. The more formal of Decepticons shook servos with him instead. 

Starscream caught Megatron’s optics, and the latter mech had the audacity to smirk at him. 

With a friendly shove from Skywarp and a few words of encouragement from Thundercracker, Starscream walked up to the Decepticon leader. 

The seeker placed a servo on Megatron’s cheek before he leaned in and kissed him. Personal celebrations not being so public be damned.

It felt like they were the only two mechs in the room. When they broke off the kiss, it was Starscream who spoke first. 

“You’re still trouble,” he said.

“I know,” Megatron replied, going in for a second kiss. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> [I'm also on Twitter, if you'd like to say hello!](https://twitter.com/sivictis)


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